August

Your crown's a flame.

A head on fire
O'er pale baby skin.

I lean back,
to see
the colors changing
in your eyes.

Silver inlaid with chestnut.

Lighting a world before your gaze.
As shadows pass upon
a tiny face.

I watch your head bob
a dance with no rhythm
with reaching limbs akimbo.

Sing a song of beaten seas
to see a smile
of brand new teeth.

They are few
these precious days
of
August
in
first bloom.

They pass
like water falling
on rock.
Floating
on air,
warm
and
light
from
a
newly
born
world.